Chapter 14 - The Nomad Sanctuary
The Iron Nomad clubhouse sat on an isolated desert bluff outside of town, surrounded by high chain-link fences, razor wire, and rusted shipping containers. Usually vibrating with rock music and roaring exhausts, the compound was dead silent beneath the scorching afternoon sun.
Gabriel Vance’s private army had turned the sacred grounds into a fortress. Black armored SUVs were parked in a perimeter circle. Inside the open garage bay, five surviving members of the Nomad charter, including Deacon, knelt on the concrete floor with zip-ties binding their wrists, surrounded by masked contractors with submachine guns.
In the center of the yard, sitting in a leather armchair brought out from the clubhouse, sat Gabriel Vance. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, his graying hair slicked back, sipping iced bourbon while checking a gold pocket watch.
Suddenly, the front gate crashed open.
A massive Caterpillar earthmover, armored with welded iron plates over its cab and tires, smashed through the steel gates like cardboard. Before the contractors could open fire, Silas gunned the heavy machine into the center of the yard, spinning the tracks to spray gravel and dust across the front lines.
From the opposite side of the compound, riding Marcus's stolen Harley, Jax roared through the breached perimeter fence. He wasn't wearing body armor. He wore a simple black t-shirt, his Kimber .45 in his right hand, and the teddy bear strapped securely across his chest like a bulletproof plate.
""Cease fire! Cease fire!"" Vance shouted, jumping to his feet, holding up an open hand. ""Do not shoot! He has the child's token!""
Jax slid the bike sideways, planting his boot on the asphalt ten feet from Vance’s security ring. He cut the ignition, letting the silence settle like lead over the dust.
""You're late, Jax,"" Vance said, his voice smooth, though his eyes narrowed at the biker’s fearless posture. ""Where is Lilith? Where is my blood?""
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Jax stood up, his gaze sweeping over the beaten, bloodied brothers kneeling in the garage, then locking onto Vance’s throat.
""She’s somewhere you’ll never reach, Gabriel,"" Jax said, pulling the flash drive from his pocket and letting it dangle from its lanyard. ""And your bank accounts just seized twenty seconds ago. You’re broke, your cartel warrants are live, and your men aren't getting paid.""
